If to embitter your smiling heart
And flow the tears on paths
Where there should be blushes,
If to steal from your approving eyes
The transparent beauty of the rising morn
With a stern look and a sterner mien
Then darling, count me a failure.
Perfection may not be claimed or achieved
But who prevents one from trying?
Love is not full of roses,
But who wants it full of tears?
If to enrage the laughter potent
Like an oriental tea
And bring ominous glares
Where there exists brilliant bliss
If to touch your blue sky with a gloomy doom
And cause a downpour in a glory of sunshine,
If to veil your moonlit night
And the sublime radiance of twinkling stars
With a cloud of despondency,
Then, Darling, count me a failure.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem